


Changing Tides

by cupcakekillian



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9486200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakekillian/pseuds/cupcakekillian
Summary: Emma knows that if she's going to make it back to Storybrooke, she's going to need help from Killian Jones. Problem is, there's no telling what time and trial have done to him... Emma and Hook meet in the Wish! Realm, speculation for 6x11, potential spoilers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing character sketches for Hook in 6x11 I got a little pissed and worried, so I decided to write about it. This may contain potential spoilers, so read at your own risk. 
> 
> The beginning of this was actually done in November, and was supposed to be a birthday gift for my internet bestie, Joanie (@handsomeswan), but because of the political events that occurred in the United States, my whole life derailed and I just recently found inspiration to write again. So this one is for you, Joanie. Consider this your birthday/christmas/new years/you're the best ever present.
> 
> hit me up on tumblr: cupcake-killian.tumblr.com

She wasn’t sure why she just stood there.

 

There were a lot of things she could be doing. Running was the first thing that came to mind, running and never looking back. Seemed like no matter what universe she found herself in, she was always a runner. It was the only thing she was good at. She couldn’t really keep living the princess life, seeing as how both of her fake parents were dead, and now that she had her memories back she’d probably be no good at it. 

 

She knew though that what she really needed to do was get her sorry ass back home. Back to her real, living, but still cursed, parents and her sweet teenage son, and her nice house, and Storybrooke. 

 

And Killian. 

She needed to get back to Killian and his blind faith in her, and his unwavering love, and that special smile he gave only her. She needed to get back to her True Love Killian Jones.

 

So maybe that’s why, against her better judgement, she didn’t run. She just stood there, staring at the Jolly Roger in all its glory, watching the little figures bustle around on deck. 

 

She was scared because what if he wasn’t there? He could be long gone by now. He may not even be a sailor at this point. For all she knew, he may be dead, which she was trying really damn hard not to think about. They needed his help in finding a magic bean, assuming he could find one at all. Emma knew that they were running out of options, and Killian was basically their Hail Mary. If he wasn’t there they were screwed. 

 

But mostly she was scared because what if he was? 

 

This was not the Killian Jones she knew and loved. She had no idea what time may have done to him, she didn’t know what path his life had taken in this wish realm. He could be, and there was a great chance he was, an entirely different person. Emma knew that Regina was banking on her being able to talk some sense into him, to get him to agree to help, but what if she couldn’t? She’d experienced “Captain Hook” only a handful of times, and, even then, she’d gotten the sense that she hadn’t really seen the pirate in all his glory. She couldn’t know how he’d react to her now, she could only hope his first instinct wasn’t to gut her like a fish.

 

“Well, you ready?” She heard Regina ask from behind her. 

 

Emma took a breath and scanned the Jolly. She didn’t see him on deck, but her instincts were leading her to believe he was there. She could feel him. “I should do this alone.” 

 

“Emma, I’m not letting you go in there by yourself. Don’t be stupid,” Regina barked.

 

Emma knew the Queen was tense because of Robin’s random reappearance, but she found herself growing more and more irritated with Regina. “Look, I appreciate you coming in here for me, but  _ this  _ is something that I need to do alone. I’ll meet you after I’m done,” Emma turned her back on the brunette to let her know it wasn’t open for discussion. 

 

“Are you sure?” Regina asked, hesitance leaking into her voice. 

 

Emma surged forward anyways. “Positive.” 

 

**OOO**

 

“Halt!” a voice bellowed as Emma reached the top of the gangplank. 

 

“I wish to speak with your Captain,” she replied. She had her hood pulled up, so they couldn’t tell who she was just yet. She’d been trying to keep a low profile ever since they’d left the castle, given the fact that she was supposed to be mourning the untimely death of her parents. 

 

“And just who do you think you are to be demanding to speak with the Capt’n?” Another pirate called out. 

 

Emma turned, having instantly recognized the voice, and was greeted by a portly, elderly man staring up at her through thick glasses. The red cap was the only indication he was still the same man she knew. “Mr. Smee, glad to see you’re alive and kicking,” Emma said in a slightly sardonic tone. She and Smee had never quite gotten along, Emma thought he was a rat and Smee thought she was a distraction to Killian, but the two shared some sort of weird bond. At least for Hook’s sake. 

 

The man squinted at her. “Do I know you?” He seemed incredibly offput by the exchange that was taking place between the two of them.

 

Emma smirked. “Not exactly, but never mind that. I’m simply looking to see the Captain.”

 

“You said that, but you haven’t told me who the hell you think you are to be worth his time.” 

 

Emma opened her mouth to reply, when someone behind her cut her off. “Mr. Smee, if she wishes to speak with me, then by all means we should let her.”

 

Emma turned slowly to find him standing on the steps leading down to his quarters. He was leaning against the railing, still cocky as hell. His hair had silver in it and the wrinkles on his face had deepened. He appeared to be in good shape, no doubt his work as a sailor keeping him in fine form, and he still carried himself with an unchallengeable dignity. There was something off in his gaze though, his face held none of its usual mischief.  He was smiling lecherously at her, but it didn’t quite reach his sea blue eyes. Those were cold and calculating, making his entire expression seem lifeless. 

 

His smile grew until he appeared to be grimacing at her. “Of course, if you want my attention, you’re going to have to work for it. Just like every other woman I come in contact with,” as he was speaking he drew his scabbard from his side and raised it towards her. 

 

Emma’s eyes moved to the hook he was brandishing. At least some things hadn’t changed. She smiled at him as she said, “I have a feeling this isn’t how most women work for your attention. Besides, I don’t even have a weapon, and you wouldn’t fight a lady with no way of defending herself.” 

 

Hook narrowed his eyes. “What a dangerous thing to assume.” 

 

“It goes against your code. Good form, and all that,” she shot back, defiance leaking into her voice. 

 

If he was shaken by her words, he did not show it other than a small flex of his jaw. “Smee, give the lady your sword,” he commanded.

 

Smee looked at him incredulously, but handed the weapon over irregardless. It was a bit heavier than she was used to, and she rolled her muscles under the weight. She pulled the drawstring on her hood a little tighter, she couldn’t have him knowing she was a princess, not yet, and raised her sword in challenge. 

 

He met her with a light and obvious blow, so much so that it felt like an insult to her abilities. She quickly parried back with something a little more forceful. It would have instantly ended the fight if he hadn’t blocked it reflexively. He raised an eyebrow and she smirked; he needed to take her seriously as an opponent if this was going to work. 

 

Hook came back at her with more power, and that was when they really started to go at it. Emma thought back to their first swordfight, when he’d clearly let her win. He’d informed her much later that he simply couldn’t bear to see another family separated, and maybe a tiny part of him wanted her to trust him. Either way, he wasn’t letting her win now as he delivered blow after blow. She was mostly playing defense, knowing she couldn’t really overpower him if he’d set his mind to beating her. Still, she could see the confusion etched onto his face as he failed to overpower her. Everytime he went to end the fight, she was two steps ahead, blocking him in a way that prevented him from doing so. 

 

She knew every move he was going to make.

 

It really wasn’t fair; he didn’t know that in a different life he’d taught her every single one of his moves.  _ Lucky for you, you have the best teacher in all the realms _ , he’d told her once. Her father had taken issue with that, of course, but experience had made him a hell of a fighter. He had graciously bestowed all of that knowledge onto Emma, wanting her to be able to handle any opponent she came across. Little did he know that it would one day be him. 

She knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him forever though, and so she did her best to position him where she needed him. “You don’t remember me, do you?” She asked, their faces centimeters from each other as their blades met. 

 

“Afraid not. Should I?” He purred as he shoved her back. 

 

Emma huffed, readying herself again. “No, but it would’ve made this a hell of a lot easier.” 

 

“And what might ‘ _ this’ _ be?” Hook asked as he charged to meet her. 

 

Emma blocked, and angled her body so that the pair were now facing left. “Getting you to help me.” 

 

He drew back and then surged forward. “You’ve come to the wrong man, Love. I don’t do favors.” 

 

Emma watched as he moved into his infamous spin move, coattails flying outwards. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics and raised her sword to meet him; blades clanging. “You will,” she grunted as she danced to the right. 

 

Hook had clearly had enough of their back and forth because he swiped at her legs, and when she went to block him he quickly spun his scabbard and disarmed her. “Is that so?” He was clearly satisfied with himself as he regarded her coldly. 

 

Emma raised her arms and stepped back, smiling when he mirrored her movements and stepped forward. He looked taken aback at the sheer bliss on her face, and so she laughed when she said “Yeah.” She slammed her foot down on the loose board, watching with satisfaction as the other end came up and slammed into Hook’s jaw, knocking him unconscious. 

 

**OOO**

 

Whatever Killian was expecting when he came to, it clearly wasn’t her. He stared at her like she was a ghost and she held a glass of rum out to him silently. 

 

“You’re the princess,” he muttered as he took it from her and gulped down a generous sip. 

Emma’s hand moved reflexively up to her hairline; she’d forgotten she had removed her cloak. She sighed and replied, “I am.” 

 

“You stayed,” he whispered as he sat up, refusing to make eye contact with her. 

 

Something in the way his voice curled around the statement, like he was afraid the words weren’t true, made her heart ache. She knew he didn’t love her in this life, but he was clearly taken aback that there was someone out there who wouldn’t leave. Her Killian always did such a good job at hiding his scars, always wanting to take care of her. Sometimes she’d forget that there were a lot of opportunities for abandonment when you were 300 years old. “I stayed,” she said with a soft smile. “You promised to give me your time if I worked for it.”

 

Killian spun the glass in his hand. “That I did. How did you know about the board? I’ve had men on my crew for decades that can’t seem to remember that damn thing.” He was still refusing to look at her, but she could tell she had his full attention. 

 

Emma sighed and stood up. She looked around the dark cabin and breathed in the familiar scent. He was still a neat freak after all these years, but she could see the residual signs of his unquenched rage. There was a broken mirror in the corner, an overturned chair near the table, and the whole place reeked of booze in a degree she wasn’t used to. There were no drawings of Milah, which she found surprising, because he’d always had those around even when she’d first met him. She knew he’d asked her a question, but instead of answering, she returned the favor. “Did you kill him?”

 

He clearly wasn’t expecting that. “Kill who?” 

 

She knew the answer but she wanted to know the why behind it. “The Dark One.” 

 

“How did you-” and suddenly he had shot across the room and his hand was gripping her arm. “Did he send you?” 

 

Emma shook him off, the look of disgust on her face being enough to convince him there was no way in hell she’d associate with Rumplestiltskin. “No,” she assured. “I was just wondering if you’d finally managed to do it, or what would be enough to get you to stop.” 

 

Hook flopped down into a nearby chair. “Perhaps I valued my life more than my revenge.” He seemed to reconsider his words. “Perhaps age taught me that turning into the thing you hate most in order to destroy that thing seemed a little foolish.” 

 

Emma smiled and she fingered some stray maps. “My wise, old pirate,” she murmured.

 

“What?” He asked and his tone was what made her realize she’d messed up. 

 

She scrambled to think of a way she could amend this. “Wise, old pirate,” she tried, knowing he’d see through it.

 

He did. “You said my.”

 

“No I didn’t,” she tried again.

 

She was convinced they could be in some alternate universe in freaking Asgard and he’d still read her like an open book. “Yes you did.”

 

Emma sighed and began to pace. “It’s complicated and I’m not sure where to begin and,”

 

Whatever she had to say, he was clearly uninterested in hearing. Throwing his hands up, he turned away from her. “You know what? I’ve had about enough of whatever game you’re trying to play. I don’t know who you are, or what you are, but I think it’s time you go,” he said, making a move towards the door. 

 

“Killian wait!”

 

He flinched like she’d slapped him and then stilled. It wasn’t quite what she was looking for, but it was something. So she tried again. “Killian,” she called softly as she went to stand in front of him. She wanted to see his face. 

 

His eyes were clamped shut and his body was rigid in a way that indicated he was holding his breath. His hand was balled into a tight fist, tendons straining against the skin that covered them. “How do you know my name?” he gasped like he was being choked. 

 

Emma didn’t know how to respond, so she simply placed her hand atop his until it relaxed. She ran her fingers over the callouses, and if she’d thought her Killian had rough hands, she’d been mistaken. Ninety years had clearly added a few extra layers of skin, in more ways than one. She’d always loved how tough his hands were; weathered and worn in. They were hands that matched hers. They were hands that had handled ropes and rigging and the pieces of his fragmented soul. They were the only hands she entrusted with her heart. “You know how,” she finally whispered.

 

Killian’s eyes snapped open. “What are you?” 

 

Emma wanted to cry. She wanted to cry because she couldn’t begin to guess how long it had been since someone had used his given name. She wanted to cry because he was letting her hold his hand, but he wasn’t holding hers back. She wanted to cry because the pain in his eyes was threatening to drown her. She wanted to cry because he asked that question with such fear (because he’d called her a “what”, as though a “who” could never love him), that it broke her heart. 

 

Maybe a tear or two did slip out when she told him she was from a different realm. A different timeline. That she’d made a wish that had messed everything up and taken everything from her. That things hadn’t happened the way they were supposed to, the way they needed to, and that she needed to fix it. She needed to fix it “because you’re waiting for me,” she whispered. 

 

He’d been listening attentively while she spoke, but his jaw went slack when she said that and his eyes unfocused. “I’m waiting for you.”

 

Emma smiled and maybe  _ more _ than a tear or two had slipped out because now she was struggling to see through them. She gave a watery laugh and nodded. “Yeah, you’re waiting for me in our home that we have together.”

 

Hook’s eyes came back into focus. “Our home? We share a home together?”

 

Emma smiled, the lump in her throat growing at the disbelief in his voice. “We live there together with my son, Henry. In a home you picked out for us.” She moved her hand up his arm, and was pleased when he didn’t shy away. “You told me I could have a future, that  _ we  _ could have a future, that I didn’t need to be scared if I just trusted you, and I did. You were always doing things like that.” 

 

Hook stared at her, clearly clinging to her every word like it was his lifejacket in the middle of a storm. “Things like what?” 

 

“Bringing down my walls, making me feel safe, putting me first. Even when we weren’t together, you still always put me first. You gave up this ship for me.” 

 

That seemed to shake something in him, and she wanted to laugh at his shock. “I did what?” 

 

She smiled at him, hand moving up to his shoulder. “To help me get back to my son and my parents, you gave up your ship in exchange for a magic bean.” 

 

Hook’s eyes moved downward, unwilling to meet her gaze. “I must love you very much,” he muttered, and then he was moving away from her all too quickly.

 

The distance between them made her cold. The feeling of rejection flooded through her body, and she had to root herself to where she was standing to keep from running off. “I mean, I don’t…” 

 

Hook spun around, clearly hearing something in her voice that affected him. Reading her like the open book he always claimed she was, he was back by her side in seconds. “No, no, love, please don’t mistake that confusion to be about my ability to love you. I can easily see how I could have fallen for you. You’re beautiful, and smart, and clearly have quite a bit of grit, and seem all around bloody brilliant. It’s easy to see why I’d be taken with you.”

 

Emma looked up at him and it was her turn to be confused. “Then why do you seem sad?” 

 

Once again, Hook refused to make eye contact, preferring to shift his gaze around the room. He kept generous space between the two of them as he said, “I understand how I could love you, but I don’t… I can’t,” 

 

It all clicked for her then, because Killian knew her, but she also knew him. She knew him like the damn palm of her hand. “You don’t understand how I could love you.” 

 

Her heart broke for what felt like the millionth time at how quiet and sad his voice came out as he replied, “Aye. After everything I’ve done, the person that I was, that I still am, I don’t understand how someone like you could’ve fallen for someone like me.” 

 

Emma closed the space between them and slowly moved her hands so that they were cupping his face. She absentmindedly ran her thumb along the scar below his eye, a familiar action that comforted her against all odds. Hook’s eyes fluttered closed under her touch and she spoke softly so as not to disturb him. “You’re good. You’re ridiculously, stupidly good. I know you probably don’t believe that now, I doubt you’ll ever believe it, but you are. You’re a man of honor and dignity and you’ve proven that time after time. You’ve lost a lot, Liam and Milah,” his eyes opened and he regarded her with a steely, caged expression. It had clearly been a long time since anyone had spoken either of those names. He made no move to remove himself from her hold, so she kept going. “But you keep fighting everyday to be better. We’re a lot alike, you and me. You may not believe me now, but I don’t think anyone understands me like you do.” The tears came then, because apparently she hadn’t cried enough today. “And you always believe in me. Always. No matter where we are, no matter what world or what memories you do or don’t have, you always trust me, you always fight for me. You’re the only person in my life who has never given up on me. No matter what realm we’re in, no matter what time, you and I always find each other.” 

 

Hook gave her a small smile in spite of everything, but he was clearly uncomfortable with her shining review. Some things never changed. “I’m not sure the man you’ve described exists.” 

 

Emma sighed, he always was incredibly stubborn.“He does, and he’s you. You’re still that person, Killian, even with a few extra years tacked on.” 

 

Killian moved a hand up to wipe away a few stray tears drifting down her face. He was completely devoted to his task as he caught the tears with his thumb and asked, “How can you be so sure?”

 

Emma leaned into his touch.“Because otherwise you would’ve killed me on sight.” 

 

He gave her a dry laugh and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “So, what do we need to do to get you back to me?” 

 

She stepped back and began making her way over to the steps leading up to the deck. “I’ll explain later, we should get going.” 

 

Killian nodded and followed after her. “Aye, we should. You have a future to get back to.” He stopped suddenly, and gave her a half-smile. “Speaking of which, you said we lived together, but I get the sense we’re unmarried. Any reason for that?” 

 

Emma started and turned back to look at him. The question had seemingly come out of left field and had her rocking back on her heels. “Why do you want to know?” 

 

And finally,  _ finally _ , he gave her a real smile. A smile that lit up his whole face. A smile that, when she’d first found him in this world, she would’ve thought him incapable of giving. “Come on, Love. Humor this old pirate.”

 

She couldn’t help but grin back, debating on telling him the truth or not. Ultimately, maybe because she wanted to make him happy, or maybe because she wanted to tell someone the secret she’d been harboring for weeks, she chose the former. “You’re hiding the ring in one of your jackets at the back of our closets, which, for a  _ pirate _ , is a very unoriginal spot to hide buried treasure. Guess you’re just waiting for the right time to make an honest woman of me.”

 

Hook looked at her like she was the sun in the sky, and she felt lucky to say it was a look that was familiar to her. With slight hesitation he asked, “And what will you say when I ask?”

 

Emma laughed. “I think you know the answer.” 

  
  



End file.
